


Rebirth

by kvbelleza



Series: When a door closes, a sky rips open—call your local adventurers [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: AD main quest intro, Action/Adventure, Established Relationship, Female Breton and Male Altmer character, Gen, No beta we clown like men 🤡🤡🤡, Platonic Soulmates, Psijic Order and The Undaunted are mentioned, Some Humor, They're good eggs i swear, power of friendship brrr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:21:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29348070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kvbelleza/pseuds/kvbelleza
Summary: Two best friends just trying to get by and earn some gold. Just like any other day, someone offered a job and they accepted. It didn't take a minute for things to spiral into events that would drag the two of them in a war they did not wish to be a part of.Alright, who was the asshole that decided Coldharbour's a tourist spot?
Relationships: Female Vestige & Male Vestige
Series: When a door closes, a sky rips open—call your local adventurers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2155527
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. By the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small island, big storms. What causes them? Wow such mystery!

**001**

**By the Sea**

_**Khenarti's Roost, along the coast of Elsweyr...** _

A shrill wail from the distant shores of Cat's Eye Quay pierces through the night. Sheer dread coiled tightly in the chilling air, like the serpents that chased out these mer and khajiit into the gates of Mistral. An abnormal spike of magic reeks all around and the stench grew stronger the closer it was to the shore. Amidst the fretful crowd moving south, few braved to stand their ground and defend the gates.

One robed elf in particular even intended to join the battle despite several warnings issued his way.

“There’s a monster in there! Just run!” They say, “I’ve never seen such a thing. I won’t be able to sleep for days at this rate.” and several more whispers passed their hearings while approaching Cat’s Eye Quay. The locals yell at them, begging the gate to be sealed until the Queen’s forces arrive. One of the khajiit even held back the young mage out of fear it’ll be too dangerous for him.

"He's with us." Rurelion announces to the survivors in the area, though his assurance did nothing to dissipate the worsening morale of the people. The elder wizard looks at the white-haired altmer behind him instead.

He's clutching on the staff to prepare for combat, yet wore a face devoid of emotions. Grey eyes vacantly staring into the distance; trying to see the situation of the battle beyond this wall, perhaps? No. It's something else… as if he's in a different realm at this very moment.

_"She's in there. There's no mistake. Make haste, Vestige. She might be in danger."_ The voice of an old man echoed in the young elf's mind. Finally. Stars know he's been waiting to hear that ever since he woke up on the ship.

The mage blinked owlishly. The Sea Vipers _are_ in danger if she’s there. Quite possibly the whole of Khenarti’s Roost as well if his nose ain’t tricking him.

Sergeant Firion is eyeing the towering gate. He should approach her.

The young mer has been bringing help all over Khenarti's Roost and has proven himself more than capable for the past week. Or so Rurelion has heard. They have been too busy exploring the _Temple of Mourning Springs_ to get a word of this young lad’s good deeds in over a short period of time. But if it’s being _"capable"_ —to use such a word for this young one is an understatement. Lending them aid in the nick of time and successfully imprisoning that foul Moarmer spirit, this mage is just brimming with raw potential. Perhaps he’ll call on him once more when it’s time to save his apprentice.

Sergeant Firion greets the young mage with equal amounts of surprise and joy which was quickly replaced with concern. “Are you sure you don’t need more protection?” the bosmer nodded at the young mer’s lack of protective gear. “We’re not just searching for people in there y’know. We’ll be fighting those nasty Sea Vipers.”

The mage adjusted his belt and loosened the silk around his waist. “Maybe.” He shrugs with a smile, pushing forth the gate with much confidence.

A clear coastline greeted them. No moarmers around, no serpents, not even a single soldier. Yes. It should’ve been an ideal scenario. If it weren’t for the damnedable scent the winds carried their way.

“Y’ffre preserve us…”

“ _Oh, Mara’s breath!_ What in Oblivion is that smell!?”

Further north was a mass of crow-like beings swarming and... _limbs_ swirling in a destructive sphere. _An ungodly cyclone of flesh and blood._ All excitement for battle dropped. An unwelcoming cold clouded their senses, making them want to throw up.

The Sea Vipers have gathered with their snakes and appeared to be in opposition of the anomaly. One tried to pierce it with a concentrated lightning and the obscurity retaliated by sending a flock on them. One after another, they kept coming at him—moving in coordination as if they are being instructed.

“Come on.” The mage proceeded without care. Sergeant Firion requested Rurelion to stay back. Something about preventing the smell to further invade from there. Walking straight into chaos, Firion watched the mage’s white braids get smeared by scattering droplets of murky red. She even recoiled at the strong scent of blood and guts gathering into one giant storm of its own. Despite the alarming level of threat it poses, the helpful elf only conjured but a magical barrier to repel any flying objects that might hit them.

“Did they do this as well!?” Her voice nearly got lost in the howling of the wind.

The mage pushed on, casually telling her to find a cover like the survivors inside the ruined houses. Realizing there were survivors left, Firion departed at his behest, knowing that stopping a flying necromancer’s fantasy isn’t what she’s good at.

Agonized screams seemed but a whisper in the deafening caw the closer he got. The ones they successfully tear apart are then dragged into the sphere; to be added into the growing pile of grotesque abomination. Fountains of blood kept forming and dematerializing into long tendrils covered with thorns, showing no mercy to whatever and whoever approaches it.

He keeps the ward up and let’s the anomaly go rampant on the moarmers, patiently waiting for the muddy cyclone to thin out. One peek at the center. That’s all he needs to guarantee his success.

Meanwhile, Firion kept watch behind a broken down wall. She found some of the survivors but was worried the mage would get overwhelmed. From what she heard, this guy was fished out by Razum-dar more than a week ago. Yet all he has done was help around the island. When she asked him of his plans, he met them with a sincere expression. “I’m waiting for someone.” That’s what he kept telling them.

“Oi, what’s he doin’ there?” Edhelas pipes from behind only to be shushed down by the sergeant. “Aren’t you at least worried?”

“Of course, I am! Look at the size of that thing. Damn sphere could block out the moons from this view!” Firion shuddered in disgust. That smell isn’t going away anytime soon. Together they observed the mage stand still for a few moments. Such a brave but gentle one that young one is. How would he fight back against that—

“AH! He’s moving!”

Firion stands up just a bit more to get a better view. “He’s aiming… what’s in his hand?”

“What’s he doing? He can’t possibly hope to beat whatever that is alone, eh!”

“He’s stepping back. He’s retreating—AH!! He threw _something_ at it! HE THREW AT IT, THAT IDIOT!!”

“It’s a pretty strong throw, though...”

“ _Edhales!_ ” Firion sneered at her companion.

“OI, SERGEANT!! HE’S RUNNING TOWARDS IT NOW!!”

The two bosmers fretfully gathered their remaining gear, thinking the mage is on his way to a self sacrificing act and cried out praises for the altmer’s bravery.

What they failed to notice was the dissolving magic shrouding the anomaly.

...

...

...

Everything in the sphere began to burn and disintegrate into ashes; the flesh, the blood, and even the corpses that weren’t fully part of the monstrosity beneath. Only the sound of sea splashing on rocks and the heavy _thud thud thud_ of his boots against sand remained as the magic vanished.

_And the woman responsible for the ruckus._

The elf nearly introduced his face to the ash-filled shore when he lost balance on the last step. “Wa.. wait-! _Humph!_ ” He had to stop midway to catch the falling witch in his arms. With the timely use of magic, he was able to soften her fall and lessen the impact when he caught her. He sets her down, quickly taking off the robe that he loosened earlier to wrap it around his friend. Soon, a few more others approached them.

“Wh-woah, hey! You survived!” Sergeant Firion gasps in disbelief, pressing a hand to her chest. “Nearly gave us a heart attack. _Whew_. Wait. Who’s that?!” She points at the unconscious girl, suspicion painted all over her face.

The mage opened his mouth to speak but was drawn back to the person finally coming to her senses. A worried smile graces his feature and he wipes away the snow and dirt off her autumn colored locks. Tonight’s bright moons glimmered in her amber eyes as it did in his.

“Jhinn…” Her voice cracked in dehydration.

“Kahl… You’re fine.” It was unbridled relief, _and maybe just a tinge of fear_ , packed in the deep breath he exhaled. “I knew I smelled more blood than necessary.” Jhinn chuckled gently.

The Prophet told him there was no guarantee on how long it’ll be before she emerges and that rattled him since. Well, she’s here now..

A most trusted companion.

His best friend.

_They’re alive._

Firion’s lips pursed in a thin line but she made no further remark at this extremely confusing encounter. Odds are it’ll only get weirder from here.

“Jhinn..” His friend beckoned at him.

“Hm?”

“...did you threw that fucking snowball at me?”


	2. Setting Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Local steward third wheels and is not happy about it; gets abducted as an answered prayer.

**002**

**Setting Sun**

  
  


**_Vulkhel Guard, port city in Auridon—Several days back…_ **

The local tavern was filled with roars of laughter, and it’s just two hours since the owner opened. To some, this might be jarring, but to the locals, it is a common thing for the Undaunted to start their celebrations this early. The Undaunted—an apt name for an organization consisting mainly of meatheads and hot blooded adventurers. No restriction of any age, race, or status as well! They have only the best warriors in their ranks, and rightly so, these fellows definitely have bragging rights, going on high risk expeditions and returning with the brightest smiles and fire in their veins.

Several tables are filled with their own groups of companions, one belonging to one of the recruiters—Turuk Redclaws, a male khajiit, accompanied by two more high elves and a wood elf. They were just starting to get to the good part of someone’s story when a scrawny lad, wrapped in fancy garments stomps towards them. He did not brandish the look of a patient man.

“Sorry to disturb. I’ll get straight to it. The associate your organization assigned us is not here yet. I’ve been waiting for more than an hour at our agreed location.” Although hurried, the courteous elf kept his voice controlled, even when was visibly tense around them. Some fellows on another table snickered at the announcement, “Prolly a goner, especially with the kidnappings happening a lot more frequently.” one said, earning chuckles around the hearth.

Who is this again? Ah, hold on. Recalling a week back, someone _did_ sponsor an expedition. Apparently, it is scheduled today.

The four exchanged looks, as if trying to figure who sent who to go with this steward. As far as faces go, they knew the one they tasked with it was a new one. Either that lout lost their nerve or their corpse is already crow feed on some place else. Whatever the case, it won’t do to pass glances while a client awaits. While they may appear nothing but unrefined brawlers to most, they put a surprisingly high amount of professionality when the situation demands it.

Redclaws clicked his tongue, and after tapping his claws on the table, finally made up his mind. The khajiit hollers at the neighboring table,

“Hey, one of you knows where our little pirate is?”

“You sure you’re sending her?” He heard one of the elves _—Talisse or Fauridil, dunno, it was quite noisy to tell—_ asked with a drip of concern. Paying no mind, the recruiter sent someone to fetch this _pirate_. Lass is staying at Mara’s Kiss, the public house just up ahead in the city. They invited their client to sit, and he complied. Although a few minutes after, he felt the need to raise a concern.

“A pirate? You’re sending a pirate as replacement?” Everybody snorted a laugh at the elven steward’s obvious discomfort.

“Technically, she is one of the medics here. Bah! Wipe that doubt off your face. This one is sure you will not come to harm in her care.”

"While it’s assuring she knows how to heal, we’re going to fetch a relic underground.” The scholarly elf insisted. By _underground_ , it meant this sod is being sent to lairs deep beneath the earth. Whatever in Oblivion lies there, they are wise to employ the Undaunted to guard their backs. “It’d be preferable if nobody dies for such a task."

Redclaws grinned widely and raised his mug, “Good. You’re in luck, elf. Nobody has died with her tagging along. I’d wager you’d be back here by sundown.”

“You give me too much credit, Turuk!” A female from behind them called.

Ah, perfect. Savior of the day. The client didn’t realize they were sending a woman. Breton, if his hunch is right. Her fiery orange hair was the first thing he caught—it was hard not to when the sun's illuminating it after the tavern door opened. Two long braids reached her hips, while there’s a considerable amount of short hair left free just above her shoulders. It was styled in a rather weird but somehow effective fashion. She wore belts and straps more than one can count, had twin blades 'round her waist and a bandana wrapped around her head. The woman looked every bit of a pirate but nowhere near a medic with her leather gears on.

"Hello, sorry you had to wait! Pleased to meet you; do call me Kahliir." Beams the lass but remained polite in her tone as she hastily exchanged pleasantries. For a brash looking person, she seems to communicate better than this sweat scented lot.

Turuk Redclaws waved them off, but not before saying something that made her scratch her head sheepishly. Something about her companion being ineligible for payment. The steward didn't understand it at the time.

* * *

Things only began making sense when they got a few miles outside the city, near the main road and the air rippled behind them. The steward assumed a defensive stance, but the redhead raced towards the ripping space before them. He would have yelled for her to watch out but was flabbergasted at the way she threw her arms wide, akin to an airheaded child running for an embrace. And as she pounces, a pair of sleeved arms phases through the portal and catches her.

"You're late!" The Undaunted lass chirped.

"Aha~ Sorry. I had trouble finding my other sock." Appearing from the freshly opened portal was another high elf with white flowing hair draping over to his thighs. While the two are engaged in some shallow banter regarding which pair of socks is best for travelling, their client observed thoroughly. The newcomer was wrapped with common altmer garb, but there's something more to this one. More than that, his magical prowess is far from common; he made that obvious by casually opening portals… and casually inviting the steward in it—wait.

"What do you mean get in? We need to get to the settlements of Mathiisen, according to the map, the way to this cave called Toothmaul Gully is over—"

"—HERE." The two said in unison. Tilting their heads in perfect sync while sending the elven scholar a look of perplexion, as if he's the one being unreasonable here.

Peeking through, it is revealed the portal _indeed_ led through the cave. "Wait. Are you sure this is the one..?" The dubious elf inquired. Taking his caution as answer, the two linked arms and crossed without him, closing the rift before he could even protest. What manner of disrespect is this!? Wait till his lord hears how the Undaunted shows their so called professionalism—

_ZZZZAAAP!_

"—This your trinket?"

That was the pirate's voice, wait, how, they're back…!? What in Xarxes' name is… By the Stars. In her hand is the artifact described and drawn in the steward's notes and research.

The elf could only blink in utter disbelief as he takes the item with utmost care. "H-how..?" It couldn't have been that easy, could it? The cave is believed to be infested with goblins.

"Oh. _Jhinn,_ my buddy here, went ahead of us. That's where he opened this nifty entrance from." Kahliir pulled a bit from the portal and the white-haired mage emerged from the other side, grinning and waving farewell at _something_ in there. 

"The goblins were quite excitable today!" He cheered, closing the portal with but a simple wave of his hand. Impressive, though as not as mystifying as how effortlessly they got their hands on the relic.

"Haha! Awesome, right?" The woman gushes, "They did want the artifacts gone. One less problem for the tribe. It was attracting looters."

Jhinn nods, pondering on something with his hand on his chin. "We could go back there and help them get rid of others. Sell 'em to antiquarians?"

"A-antiqua.. Are you out of your mind?!" The steward, who they honestly forgot was still there, cuts in, looking at them with bewildered eyes. The Mage's Guild or other academies would make better use of it. Treasures as such deserve much more than to just be simply sold in the market. Perhaps even the ancient order of Psijics will take interest—

"N-no…" Jhinn waved defensively with his hands, "We're sort of busy in Artaeum as it is. I wouldn't still be here chatting if what we found there would be something my professors want."

This is just getting more and more mind boggling.

"Pardon my hearing, did you just say _Artaeum_?” The steward croaked. “Artaeum, the home island of the Psijic Order?”

Exchanging glances, Jhinn nods reassuringly at Kahliir. He brings a hand to his chest, “My name is Jhinn, I’m an altmer living under the Psijic’s care and my home is in Artaeum. And yes, my partner here informed me on the way. Since we’re both familiar with the place, I went and asked the goblins for help in advance to shorten our trip. I hope you didn’t mind.” explains the Psijic mage in such a nonchalant way.

The elven steward immediately stammers on his next words, asking forgiveness for his temper and lack of faith, and what honor it is to meet a member of the mystic organization. “But ask the goblins to help..? I-Is that even possible?”

“They’re not as wild and monstrous, I mean they have tribes, don’t they?” Kahliir piped in, “It took us a lot of time but we somehow managed to earn their trust. They do know how to communicate. You’ll be amazed, really.” She gleefully added.

“I-I didn’t know the Undaunted delivers such service for a moderate price…”

“Oh no, we don’t!” The pirate chuckled with her partner, “Without my best friend, it would indeed take us a lot longer to accomplish this. And I’m a medic to begin with. I don’t often get called for commissions like this. Turuk must be in a good mood.”

And it would be with reason, too. Their esteemed client did wait long. It would do the Undaunted name dirty if they overlooked this inconvenience. Sending someone with connections to the Psijic must be their way of compensating. Ah, now it makes sense. This Psijic mage was the one that khajiit was reminding her about. The steward raised another question regarding the pay while they were making their way home.

“Payment? I don’t really mind. Artaeum provides more than enough for me. I’m here for the adventure, mostly.” Laughs the white-haired mage then sighs despondently, “Of course I still have to go back for when I’m needed in research and other paperworks… I try to make the most out of every time I have here on the field. Which actually brings us to another thing...” He looks over his shoulder, to the pirate busying herself navigating the map.

“Ah! I forgot! The reason we didn’t just do it right away in the city. Right. So uhh, of course we all know there’re laws regarding usage of magic within settlements, and while we admit to bending this rule most of the time, we’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell your master that a Psijic mage was involved, u-unless it’s necessary of course.” The woman fidgets, “Otherwise, feel free to embellish! We wouldn’t mind.” They flash the confounded scholar a sheepish grin. When the steward was told he’d be accompanied by Undaunted warriors, two juvenile adventurers were the least he expected.

* * *

They went back to the port city on foot, with mostly the scholar quietly keeping to himself, having no desire to join the other two’s childish repartees. It’s only been under an hour and he already wishes to remove himself from their presence. Not that he’s uncomfortable around them gossiping and giggling about members of their respective organizations; if anything, it’s quite amusing and somewhat informative regarding which ingredient is more effective in regrowing one’s hair—but that’s beyond the point.

“Ah, I would like to stop by the traders before I return home. You two can go on ahead if you wish.”

The steward had to raise his voice a bit or he’ll never get a word in between the two. Without argue, they bid their client farewell and went on to pick where they left off. Simple as that. He was as unnecessary as a chaperone the whole time they’re together—truly absurd this day has been!

And if that doesn’t make things puzzling enough already, a person claiming to be an antiquarian had approached him for the piece of trinket he has. The scholar politely declined, but like a persistent merchant, the antiquarian offered to show him to an ongoing auction nearby in hopes of swaying his master’s opinion. Seeing as he still had enough daylight to burn, the elf agreed. No harm in viewing what other oddities may interest his lord, after all.

The auction was said to be held in a rented lodging in the city outskirts, but the closer they got to the site, the more suspicious the steward became. Not a single Vulkhel guard was in vicinity and the walls hid them from view. They were approached by armed hooded men—not that they were trying to be subtle at this point anyway.

“Hold on, you’re not an antiquarian, aren’t you?”

Quickly unveiling the ruse, a blunt end hit his nape. He didn’t feel the pain at first, but it threw his senses off, hindering him from casting a quick spell. Fear and panic turned his blood cold; scrambling, searching, the steward tried to run but was captured by the hooded figures. A scrawny lad like himself did not stand a chance against countless beating and was worn down in no time.

_‘Wh..What is this… Mara’s mercy, are they part of those kidnapping people…?’_ His memories of the day fleeted in his mind as they put a sack on his head.

If only he endured…

being with those two…

for a minute or two more…

.....

...

..

The sound of air fizzling caught his ear, followed by a blast that hit one of his attackers. The next half minute was a blur, he was cowering, crawling away, and there were more people than he had remembered, fighting off his helper. He hadn’t figured out what the squelching noises were from, he just figured a group of guards had arrived. But when trembling hands had finally freed his face from the sack, a thick, foul, metallic scent had already dominated the air. Beside him was a fresh corpse of the man that posed as an antiquarian; a pair of blades he could fully recognize stuck out from their chest and stomach.

Blinking towards the fight, he was momentarily blinded by the setting sun—still he could not mistake her for anyone else.

The shade of her hair looked like it was blazing under the red glow of the sky, but it was those golden eyes of hers that spoke merciless fury. She released a wave of fire that staggered her enemies and her mouth was moving while keeping her distance. Successfully casting her spell, the atmosphere suddenly felt suffocating, even for the scholar.

_‘What is this magic?’_ It was far from foreign, yet her energy felt ominous. The steward could only gape in horror when he fully witnesses the blood of the slain form and compose a corporeal weapon for her.

Kahliir knew using blood magic so openly would not be received well. But they’ve been trying to track down these heartless scums for months now. Determined to bring her foes down, she clutches on her newly formed whip and charges the other hand, absorbing fading life energies from the corpses she made.

“Hypocrite! You wield the same necromantic arts like the rest of us yet you defy the will of the Master _—HRRGK!_ ”

The man dropped to his knees, instinctively trying to close the wide slit on his throat. Kahliir didn’t dally and quickly rained destruction on the cultists. Surely they can understand...

She wasn’t here to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts, comments, tips, kudos very much appreciated!! xux Thank you for dropping by!!! ♥


	3. Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhinn and Kahliir makes a visit to Mannimarco's glorious lair. To be fair, they were uninvited, so...

**003**

**Visitors**

  
  


It was as usual a day as any for the two of them. They were to go on a trip of their own, assisting the client was just a little bit of side hustle. Still, it was a productive one—a pay should greatly help them in their search.

Kahliir and Jhinn met many wonderful adventurers throughout the past six years. When a few disappeared and were impossible to track, this bothered both of them. As explorers, their path is far from easy and danger came biting from all possible directions. But it just felt like they suddenly vanished. Since two years ago, word of random kidnappings have been spreading throughout the region and the frequency is increasing as of late.

Something ominous is happening.

“What do you think? I’m craving for some cabbage stew…” Jhinn had a hand rested on his chin, eyeing the fresh vegetables displayed on a stall. He turned to his best friend for advice but found her staring off the distance. When he asked, she only whispered to keep vigilant. That something was amiss and to follow her if she doesn’t contact him in half an hour.

That was ten minutes ago.

The Psijic set out to search for her anyway, but in a crowd this dense, he can’t openly use magic without getting fined for it.

It wasn’t worth the trouble at the moment. If only he knew...

_“Kahliir…”_

He shouldn’t have been so overconfident.

Jhinn did found her… eventually. Under what circumstance did she deem it necessary to use blood magic was the least of his concerns. It was necessary enough, period.

“KAHL!!”

Concentrated magic surged from his limbs, charging and forming to pure electricity, leaping through space in the blink of an eye. Discharged lightning paralyzes two of the cultists that were near where he emerged, but he was still not close enough. A number of newly spawned scamps made it even harder to close the gap between them. Kahliir met his eyes and tipped her head to a certain direction. The Psijic then realized she intends to hold them off so he can get the horrified client to safety.

Did she really think he'd abandon her for such a trivial thing? With a snap of his finger, a rift opens up and swallows the steward whole, never to be heard of again.

Just kidding. He sent him back to the city markets. The only thing that guy has to worry about is the guards arresting him for questioning.

“Jhinn! Summoner!”

The altmer didn’t waste any time and froze the brute launching at him, striking the scamps with a lightning rod with his other hand. If he had it his way, he would bolt right outta there and so will his best friend. But these are not regular evil doers. They _need_ their information. He had his eyes on the flashy lights swirling out from one cultist—Jhinn is a Psijic, a seeker of knowledge, nothing escapes his keen observation! Nothing. And while he was occupied repelling and banishing daedras, he had completely missed Kahliir getting dragged off into a portal of unknown nature.

Guess Kahliir wasn't flashy enough, oops. No, seriously, he doesn't have an omnidirectional vision—he can even barely focus on something for too long in a fight and that's exactly why he stomps his foot on the ground, releasing a pulse of lightning, strong enough to fry every standing foe between him and the portal. Overkill? Nah, it was getting boring, _and tiring_ , ahem, it was only his best friend holding him back from unleashing hell.

Now they're taking _her_?

Oh no.

_Oh_ _no no no no_...

That ain't how this works here.

“Damn it, let go of me!” Kahliir struggled in vain against the conjured chains suffocating her more and more. Her captor releases her mid air and she falls on her back against some rough concrete. A loud groan follows immediately but is quickly lost once she casts her eyes upon the dungeon she landed on. Disgusting. The stench of the undead, magic reeking of dark arts filled the vast empty feeling halls that expanded like an ayleid ruin itself. The cultist, who had already summoned their allies, were preparing to apprehend her when the space separating them seemed to have _cracked_.

As if it was thin ice.

As if someone’s pushing on another side.

“Sneaky magic. Almost couldn’t get a trace on you.” A distorted yet cheerfully familiar voice called from the cracks. “Almost.”

With a powerful smash, Jhinn successfully shatters the space, forcing a portal for him to enter into. Lively and donning his optimistic smile, he grabs his partner and they made a run for it while their oppressors are still stunned.

“Got any idea where to go?!” Kahliir huffed out.

“Need some time..! Something’s suppressing our magic here!”

It took a few turns to finally hide their presence. Although their chances of staying hidden dwindles with every second, with more and more cultists joining to hunt them down. They crept around the dreadful halls, trying to find a better spot to cast the spell undisturbed. Eventually, they find an area without light.

“Safe enough, I suppose…” Jhinn carefully moves in before Kahliir tugs him back. She shook her head, fervently expressing her disagreement on the decision with a deeply troubled look.

“This place scares me…” she whispered.

“Come on, we’ve dealt with daedric monstrosities before..” he cupped her hand.

“No.. Nothing this nerve wracking… Necrotic energy this high that it becomes detectable for me.. It’s not any soulless corpse.” Her voice trembled at that. “Jhinn.. There’s a lot of people here…”

Just like that, realization hits both of them. The elf’s first instinct was to illuminate the place, the other was to hiss in protest. Two pairs of unbelieving eyes bear witness to countless cells and large cages, stocked with people both old and young, piled like pigs for slaughter. Their lifeless eyes and faces devoid of emotions chilled the breton to her core. She was no stranger to darker arts or how its elements differ from regular conditions, but standing before a massive amount of energy, specifically catered for necromancers to harvest.

It’s no better than a sacrifice…

_A blood sacrifice…_

Kahliir bit her lip hard. She did not like the memories it brought back. Again, she pleaded for her best friend to cast the portal. Anywhere’s fine, so long as it’s not here—those cultists must have already been conducting a spell to reveal their presence.

But her friend gave her a conflicted look, “W-we can’t leave them here…?”

“Jhinn, I-.. We can’t do anything..! Let’s leave. Please. We’ll inform everyone and we go back with reinforcements-”

“But look at them—we can try!” Even the normally jolly Psijic couldn’t fend off the eeriness this unsettling sight gives him. “We can… we can blow this place up. I’ll try to make a portal. We’ll get them free. Home. Away from this place.” he said, gaining bravado with the words he’s declaring.

“Think this through, come on.” Kahliir argued. They rarely do, but this was life and death. And if this conversation wasn’t risky and hard enough, both knew neither was wrong or right. But there are instances when their approach on things just doesn't align.

Jhinn had every confidence that his best friend wanted this whole thing to be brought into justice. But what of these people? They will have to wait, and that’s not even including the estimated time to get the authorities agree on assaulting this place—wherever this is. He doesn’t even have to calculate chances and possibilities, the main problem right now is to ensure these people’s safety.

_‘Nobody deserves to be caged like this.. Like.. like…’_

The altmer glances at his trembling friend and is reminded of a grim past. Once long ago, he was unable to free a young redhead from her bounds.

And it resulted to a massacre they were both responsible of.

_‘That’s in the past. I can do something now.’_ He assured himself.

Kahliir had to keep her cool together, in spite of her knees becoming numb by every heartbeat. Jhinn always meant well, a little reckless at times, but he had the best intentions in his mind. She would never hold it against him but he has to be talked out of this one. She’d force him out of here if she could only do so. Unfortunately, she hasn’t mastered opening portals as well as the talented Psijic giving her an anxious look right now.

That’s a look she can match. They’re about to go in circles.

_“Allow me to save you from such an argument!”_

A deep, venomous voice boomed inside the dungeon. The torches lit up and suddenly, a vile, dark smoke gathered in a swirl in front of them. Jhinn was quick to send a frost blast at it and it returned the attack with twice the amount of ice spikes. The breton mage deflected with a ward as easy as breathing, but she came to fully understand when her partner said the place made it hard to cast. It’s as if something’s trying to sever their ability to wield magicka.

As the thick smoke disappears, a figure appears in it, wearing stark black armor fused with daedric essence with the energy it reeks off. The elf had long locks of silvery white, a grin fit for a devil, and a ridiculous crown that did nothing to make him look friendlier.

_Mannimarco._

“You made yourself quite at home, I see.” He sneers, summoning a staff that emitted malevolence both from its very glow and power. “I understand that you’re friends. Why, you shouldn’t be clashing heads!” In one fell swoop, he strikes them with a spell that effectively cuts their magical abilities.

The two weren't even given the chance to recover.

“Friends should _always_ be together.” Mannimarco condescendingly mutters before hurling them a spell to knock both unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like these two simple-minded besties? xux Subscribe to get notified updates! ♥


	4. Breakout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're finally awake. Golly! At least there's no beheading this time!

**004**

**Breakout**

  
  


He awoke in the most dreadful place he's ever been since his paperwork filled study back in Artaeum.

Why is it that it is when he's fully sober that he can't remember how he ends waking up in certain places? Jhinn scrunches his eyes, adjusting his blurry vision to the distorted lighting. Place surely don't feel anything like Nirn. He hates asking this but what happened?

A few seconds of silence made him realize that Kahliir's not there to explain things. The mage shuffles about, seeing people sharing his cell. There were explosions outside… Yelling… A riot. He trudges around, following the noise. There—out from the spaces between their bars. Jhinn tries to phase through with what very little magicka he has but some vile magic coated the very materials blocking him from freedom. Negating, no,  _ absorbing _ his magic upon contact.

He knew he's not hallucinating in spite of his senses going on and off and on and off—as if he's on some kind of chemical that continuously tears and stitches his form back together. The looming dread, overwhelming confusion.. his difficulty of piecing things together, it made his mind hazy; something he's not used to. He also felt little pain, trying to phase again and falling on his back several times. Of all those thoughtless attempts, the one that opened the cell was not his persistence but the strong, sharp-edged sword wielded by a uniquely tall human.

Jhinn heard her, knew she was rallying them to arm themselves and get as many as possible out—out from where?

"Can you move? We can't help you if you don't follow! Hurry up!"

Her voice rang in the mage's head, similar to how his professors scold him when he brings in an artifact he wasn't permitted to pursue. Still, the call compelled him to move, following where everyone else is going, passing by dark halls, more cells, more faces all emptied of.. soul.

_ Cell to the left. _

An unexplainable urge wells in him for the first time since he woke up. He wasn't really sure what's pulling him, the cell at the leftmost wing was already open. Empty. Even then, his feet moved and at the end, what he found felt like a stab in the gut.

"Jhinn?" Kahliir crouched near the opening, hugging her knees and looking up at him in utter shock and terror. "No.. Oh, no, no! Not you-"

Her voice was soft and so  _ horribly _ broken, and her sobs quickly escalated to hysterics.

"—No! This isn't happening.. This isn't..! Oh Divines, not you too, Jhinn, I-" she blubbered, "We can't.. T-the kids..! I'm so sorry,  _ I'msorryI'msorry— _ "

"Kahliir!" He would've already slapped her with some calming spell by now if not for this place's hindrance. The Psijic knelt and yanked her wrists to get her attention. "Shut up. Get up. Let's go." Thank Gods he got that out before feeling a build up in his throat.

And his determination got through, seeing that his best friend immediately got on her feet like someone flicked a switch that stopped her wailing.

Kahliir couldn't make the fear disappear. It was still there, a bucket of water balancing on a branch of wood. But Jhinn carried the same fear when he spoke to her. There are times when things are fucked up beyond explanation. And there are those when her partner for half a decade stops smiling. She knew which one indicated a more pressing matter.

Hands linked together as they find their way back to the crowd, they ran as fast as they could along the hellish site, ignoring all the snarling and growling that began to emerge behind them. At the next turn, one daedra blocked their path, its sword raised high to slay them on the spot. Were it not for the timely interruption of another prisoner, they might have been grievously injured right there and then. The man bashed the monster's head in again and again, planting the shield he used on its neck as a finisher.

"Th-thanks.." Kahliir mumbled out.

"Yeah.. Not really the place for vacation, eh?"

"If it is, whoever picked this place seriously needs some self check."

The man ignored the two's automatic banter. "We should keep going." He simply said. Giving it a bit of inspection, the guy looked and sounded every bit from the northern regions. A nord, perhaps? He had silvery white hair, a huge build, and some scars that spoke years of experience. Someone hailing from Pact territory helping foreign faces like theirs… Shit.  _ Where is this place? _

The next stop was a huge field with paths leading up to floating rocks, and several more down to where a huge scale battle is currently happening. Going through with minimal conflict, the monsters are indeed daedric upon closer look.  _ All of them. _ The place itself, the awful air, the stormy skies of endless night, it was only then they realized they're in a plane of Oblivion.

"Guesses?"

None of the several more people that joined them had an answer for Jhinn. As frustrating as it felt, he had to let things go. Surely, there'll be someone to answer his queries later.

_ "Vestiges… Hurry.. We are nearing the exit.." _

Did some guy just speak through his mind? Whoever's voice just invaded his mind seemed to have done so with the other prisoners as well, judging by the mass confusion. The old man instructed them, guiding the direction of their path.

Jhinn and Kahliir eventually found themselves fighting a horde of colossal skeletons the very moment they stepped into the other side of a portal. Very bad welcome party, really. Horrible.

Some people were screaming to protect the  _ "Prophet"  _ at all cost; see, he was trying to open the exit. The amount of fear and confusion just keeps topping up each other with every passing moment. Nobody even had the time to answer Jhinn when he asked about the large woman who freed and rallied most of them.

_ "Vestiges.."  _ There was that voice again. Is it from the man in ragged robes and funny stick?  _ "I'll attempt to keep this rift open for as long as I can. You must hurry, jump! Now..!" _

_"_ Kahliir did. They both did.

_"_ She remembered light just consuming everything.

But they held onto each other to the very last moment.

She remembers the warmth of her partner’s hands.

The same warmth she's waking up to…

…

…

…

..right now.


	5. Beginning of Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Razum-dar saved Jhinn's life and he returns the favor by giving the khajiit more paperwork. Anyway, back on track... Wait, why is this the final chapter? >:O

** 005 **

** Beginning of Something **

  
  


**_Present Situation in Khenarti’s Roost..._ **

The elven mage ported them to his current lodging near the plantation after finding his best friend. He then sealed the place, demanded she be left to rest, and blinked back to the battlefield that instant. The storm that had devastated the island recently, the storm that the Sea Vipers conjured; to be hindered by an outsider who only happened to be here because some locals found his body floating by the sea—who would have thought, yes?

_He stopped the storm._

Razum-dar wished it was as easy as that when he turns in his account of the event. The mysterious elf ran through the tunnels occupied by the enemy. Well, _they used to_ until he went in there like an avalanche. Not only did this young mage destroyed devices that were used by the Sea Vipers, he also froze any Maormer he came in contact with. Investigating the collapsed tunnel will be no different from walking in a frozen museum. Raz couldn't even begin to imagine how to explain the massive destruction on the furthermost part of the island; all they know is that's where the Sea Vipers were attempting to summon their storm. However, it looked like a very specific hail storm hit their ritual site instead.

"Well… Good luck to everyone writing a summary on this." Razum-dar whistled to the respondents. Even the Dominion soldiers are having trouble whether to feel awe or horror by the sight of snow this far south.

It was, in all honesty, the fastest counter attack in record.

Now, now. Where did that elf disappear to?

**_Much later into the evening..._ **

After the fight, Jhinn teleported with haste to attend his friend, who thankfully has regained consciousness and is now boiling some water.

“Just water?” Asked the Psijic, removing the seal surrounding the tiny wooden house.

“If you’ve got coffee...” She sighed, “Either way, I just need to stop freezing…” Kahliir fixed her robes tightly and slumped on a chair. She spent the first few minutes of her waking moments mulling over her body feels like it’s been chewed and spat back into the world. How she felt Jhinn’s hand dematerialize from hers and the next thing she’s grasping on are sands and stones of the shores in which she.. _lost control_.

“Jhinn.. I..” The breton pinches her nose bridge, hoping to suppress a headache. Her foes have every right to brand her a _witch._ “How could I make something like that..?”

The altmer pondered on it. Then, “You actually helped slow down their energy gathering.” he casually spoke, waving his hands in fluid motions that projected a map of the zone they’re currently in.

“...What?”

“They made use of blood sacrifices, you know, usual. Carved runes on living flesh, marking them as energy sources for their storm to feed on? You somehow managed to harness it for your own. I suspect that’s how you also made such a large scale manifestation.”

“Well… shit.”

Jhinn let out an exhausted laugh. “Also we’re not that far from Auridon it seems.” Didn’t think today’s entire ordeal would actually be _that_ consuming. He did try to explain what happened and how long it has been. None of which helped Kahliir feel better.

He watched the warm water in her mug ripple when she placed it down with too much force. “I’m out for HOW long? And what do you mean the Silvenar is dead!?”

“Calm down-” That line never works by the way, “Alright, alright. Look, I don’t know, I was just helping while waiting for you here! The Prophet told me you should be around since we’re holding each other when we jumped. Also if it’s any consolation, I contacted the kids. They still think we’re both in expedition so—”

Kahliir abruptly stands up, her expressions switching in several mixes of confusion and anger. “I need to see them, too. Please.” She mumbled, rubbing the back of her arms. “This doesn’t make sense. Why haven’t we gone home yet?”

“Uh- because the Prophet said he’ll contact-”

“We don’t even know who this person is!” She threw her hands up—the effort in assuring her foul mood’s not directed at her best friend is plenty appreciated, “Jhinn we gotta work with what we _do_ know.”

It’s not like she’s wrong. They have been going with this mindset and it always got them out of sticky situations. “If we list it down.. We know the Worm Cult really is behind the disappearances.”

“And back there was.. Mannimarco.. Oh, fuck. Don’t tell me that daedric realm was..?”

“And they were calling us _Vestiges_..”

“And you’re telling me time flowed for more than a week when it wasn’t even a minute for me.."

_KNOCK—KNOCK—!_

“Ahem! My friend, this is Razum-dar!”

Their conversation was cut short by an unexpected visitor. The breton shot a look at her friend and went ahead to open the door when he agreed.

“Aha! Raz knew you’d be back he—oh…!” The khajiit pauses and follows with more mischief, “Forgive Razum-dar for interrupting your.. _celebration_ , my lady.” Charming fellow, this one.

Under normal circumstances, the two will be the first to laugh at such a statement, but, well... They’re in the middle of something that is definitely not what one would call _“celebration”_. Figuring the matter isn’t good for public announcement, they let the helpful khajiit present his business with them.

“How did you even know we’re here? I don’t remember telling you where I’m staying.” Jhinn asked as politely as he could. Raz did save him after all and has done nothing but bring about help, same as the mage.

Luckily for them, the odd fellow appreciates the healthy cautiousness. “A good practice in such a time.”, he delightedly adds. “You uncovered a plot and chased off the Maormer. Khenarti’s Roost is safe, and voluntarily a part of Aldmeri Dominion! All done in under a fortnight. So if you must know? Razum-dar keeps an eye on promising people.”

“Look.. if this is just about formalities and gratitude..” Kahliir was ready to show him out.

“Ah, but there’s more to it as always, yes?” Razum-dar drops the jolly act. Though the khajiit likes to talk funny, they do not sense any ill motives from his secrecy. He informs the two about the threat other Sea Vipers pose to all southern seas, saying that while Khenarti is now more prepared, other areas may not receive the warning in time.

Between the two of them, it was always Kahliir who handled talking but Jhinn thought he’d cover for her this time around. She deserved that much… also she’s giving him that look—the exact one she uses when she wants to get ported away from whoever they’re interacting with.

“...so as Raz was saying. Things here still need a little more assisting. As for you, Razum-dar needs a report handed to the Watch Captain in Vulkhel Guard.”

That alone turned the breton’s frown upside down, exchanging glances with her partner and instantly packing up whatever personal things they have.

“Vulkhel? Why didn’t you say sooner!” Jhinn nearly jumped from his seat, stretching his arms and proceeding to make gestures Raz concluded to be some sort of spell. “We can give you a lift. You in?”

For once Razum-dar had nothing to say. “Uhh.. This one is good—”

“Okay! Kahl, don’t forget the cup beside the cabinet! That’s Cynthia’s!”  
“Whaaaat?” The elf’s companion scolded him from the other room, “I thought we agreed on leaving their things alone! Did you misplace yours again!?”

“I’ll try looking into the last ruin we explored! Let’s go!”

With one circular motion, a portal the size of the mage opened, giving way for fresh cold wind to rush into the room. This smell…? The befuddled Razum-dar stared at the shores of Vulkhel Guard’s port, from a _very safe distance_ of course.

“D-Directly into the city, huh. Well.. Don’t get caught.” He waved awkwardly at them which they responded with a loud _“THANKS!”_ before stepping in and instantly closing the spatial rift they left behind.

Indeed, his line of work leads him to meeting very interesting individuals…

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a tumblr OC thing but all these drafts we keep sending one another needs to be out here as proof of our existence lmao. Thank you and more adventures to us all! ♥  
> (more ESO OC tag at https://kittyspotatoes.tumblr.com/ to anyone interested :3)


End file.
